


Bump That Track

by Beltenebra



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Clubbing, DJ Otabek Altin, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Mild Drunkenness, Mutual Pining, Romantic Gestures, kiss monster Victor, unmitigated sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 18:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10169480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: Otabek plans a birthday surprise for Yuri that only he can give.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emblems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblems/gifts).



> I was so happy to get your assignment! I love everything about these two and it's always a pleasure to write them. As soon as Kubo-sensei broke the news that Otabek DJs as a hobby I knew what I had to do. I hope you like it!

“I know it will be a little late for your birthday but I was thinking of coming to St. Petersburg after Worlds.” 

Otabek kept his voice casual. He really wanted Yuri to like the idea, he was fairly certain he would. After a year of friendship (shading into something possibly more than friendship, at least on his part), he had a pretty good handle on Yuri’s reactions to most things but there was always the potential that he could have read things completely wrong. The little bit of unpredictability kept things exciting, or as at least a small part of his brain insisted, mildly terrifying. 

On the screen Yuri’s eyes widened in surprise. They had kind of tossed around vague ideas about taking a trip together during the off season but hadn’t gotten past that point. 

“To visit you,” Otabek clarified, just in case. 

“Of course to visit me, moron. Who else would you be visiting in St. Petersburg. Katsudon?” Yuri scoffed but he was smiling. One of those small smiles that made his eyes glow, the kind the public didn’t get to see. Otabek’s heart still insisted on doing that skipping thing but he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much. 

“I’m sure hanging out with you will be a million times better than whatever this pack of idiots are planning,” Yuri said with a grimace. “I was hoping if I didn’t mention it, they’d forget but Victor has it circled on their kitchen calendar in sparkly pen. And I’ve definitely walked up on Katsudon and Mila whispering something about cake. Cake that I won’t even be allowed to eat more than a bite of even if it turns out to be edible. Which if Mila has anything to do with it, it won’t be. Maybe if Katsudon does all of the cooking,” Yuri mused while Otabek tried, not very hard though, to tone down his indulgent smile. 

“Make sure not to delete _all_ of the pictures. I want to see them.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll consider it.” Yuri’s smirk edged into a softer expression. “I’m glad I’ll see you soon. I miss you.” 

“You saw me like a week ago. For us that’s like yesterday,” Otabek replied with quiet amusement. 

“Yeah, I know but it was the Olympics and everything was busy and insane and… well, you know. The _Olympics_.” 

He did know. He and Yuri spent some time together throughout the two weeks in Pyeongchang but it wasn’t like all the other figure skating competitions. Even though they had both been to countless international events it was still a relatively small community of skaters and coaches. The Olympics was an overwhelming circus of thousands of athletes and parties and practice schedules and media everywhere all the time. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. 

They had hesitated to hang out too much before their events started. Yuri had been skating for Russia in the team event so Otabek could go cheer him on for that one. He was currently the only senior division skater Kazakhstan had so the team event was clearly off the table. But neither of them wanted to disturb the other’s focus for the men’s single event so they had kept to themselves until it was over. 

Yuuri had capped off his last competitive season with a well deserved gold medal. Victor had retired the season after his comeback and was back to coaching. He had joked that Yuuri was going to win gold for both of them. 

Yuri had bitched to Otabek at length about how Katsudon was ruining his first Olympics but Otabek knew he was happy for Yuuri and his silver medal went a long way towards making him feel better. Not to mention his Team Russia gold. Otabek had beat Seung Gil out for bronze by the fractions of a point and he still couldn’t quite believe he was an Olympic medalist. Immediately after the medal ceremony Yuri made him promise that they would both be back for 2022. That was definitely his plan.

“Yeah. I know. Is it weird that I was really relieved for life to go back to normal?” As close to normal as things could get for him after bringing an Olympic medal back to Kazakhstan anyway. The parade had been surreal. 

“Nah. Victor makes having adoring masses follow your every move look easy but it’s really not,” Yuri agreed. “Anyway, it’s getting late for me which is _really_ late for you. So go to bed already, Beka.” 

“Yes, Yura, I’m going,” he replied with a teasing lilt. “And I miss you too. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

Yuri kept his word and dutifully posted his birthday pictures on Instagram. Otabek immediately favorited the pictures of a smiling Yuri being squished by teammates on all sides and a beautiful cake that looked like Yuuri had wisely insisted be purchased from a professional. Yuri also sent him a few other pictures through private messenger - one of him with Victor and Yuuri, the three of them all peace signs and big grins, and one of some of his favorite presents. Otabek’s favorite picture was a close up of Yuri’s ear, newly pierced with the present Otabek sent ahead - a gold tiger stud. Thinking about seeing Yuri and his piercing in person made Otabek’s body react in an entirely different way. He did his best to ignore it to varying levels of success. 

Weeks later with Worlds behind them it was more or less the end of their competition schedule for the year. Despite Yuri’s protests, Otabek opted to arrive after Yuuri’s official retirement celebration. He didn’t feel quite close enough to anyone, except Yuri of course, to justify attending. From the pictures though, it looked like pretty much everyone else on the professional skating circuit had been there. The Olympics had pretty much exhausted his capacity for raucous parties attended by all of his colleagues for a while. The videos of Victor, Chris, and Phichit’s pole dance tribute were more than enough, (even if they were a little shaky because Yuri couldn’t stop laughing).

Otabek had arranged for his second birthday present just a few days into his three week visit. He probably should have planned it later in case Yuri hated it but he had waited far longer than he wanted to already. 

When he told Yuri where they were going that evening the blond’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That sounds like a club.” 

“That’s because it is a club.” 

Yuri wrinkled his nose in consternation, “Seriously, Beka? Clubs are too full of loud, gross people. And the floors are always sticky.” 

“This one’s not so bad. Marginally less sticky and patronized by only slightly gross people,” he responded in his best overly serious voice. 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Fine, have it your way. What should I wear, is there a dress code?” 

There was but Otabek already had them on the list. He was also surprised that it didn’t occur to Yuri at all that he was the brand new Olympic medalist darling of the country. He could turn up wearing a garbage bag and no club in Russia would turn him away. 

“You can wear whatever you want.” 

Whatever Yuri wanted turned out to be gunmetal grey slacks that fit like a second skin, a white and grey leopard print shirt, and a cropped leather jacket. He had definitely been picking up style tips from Victor. 

Otabek willed the heat out of his cheeks. “You look great.” 

Yuri seemed a little embarrassed, giving him a sidelong glance and gesturing to Otabek’s jeans, t-shirt, and motorcycle jacket. “Thanks. You too.” 

By the time they arrived the slight awkwardness had vanished and Yuri was back to mock complaining about everything. But even he couldn’t deny that the club Otabek ushered him into was nice. There was a good sized dance floor, a sleek bar running along one wall, and a DJ booth up in the corner. It was a little early in the evening yet so it wasn’t very crowded but Otabek knew they capped attendance so it would never get too crazy. 

He led Yuri over to the bar where the bartender greeted him by name. Yuri looked at him, clearly surprised. Otabek just fist-bumped the bartender and grinned, “I know a guy who knows a guy.” 

He waved a hand at the vast array of bottles in front of them. “We’ll get whatever you want.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, “I’ve already turned eighteen, I can buy my own drinks now.” 

Otabek was well aware of that fact and the potential danger there. Not that someone like Yuri Plisetsky would have to buy his own drinks in any club anywhere. “I know, but it’s your birthday. I can’t let you do that.” 

They took their time with the drinks, talking and people watching. Before he knew it an hour had passed and it was time. He ordered Yuri another martini and got up.

“I have something I need to do but I’ll only be gone for about thirty minutes.” 

Yuri looked resigned, “This is part of the surprise isn’t it?” 

Otabek knew that Yuri would instantly see through whatever excuse he tried to concoct so he just nodded and squeezed Yuri’s shoulder lightly before making his way through the crowd. 

He found the friend of his friend who worked there and retrieved the bag he had dropped off earlier. He climbed the steps to the currently dark DJ booth and got his set up in order - connecting his laptop and positioning his headphones. With the lights down he could still see the pale gleam of Yuri’s hair off to the side. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, he had done this before, it would be fine. Probably Yuri wouldn’t hate it. 

Moments later the lights came up, whiting out Otabek’s view of the dance floor for a moment as a voice over the speaker introduced him as a special guest DJ. He was glad no one had given him a hard time about not having a special ‘DJ name’ because he’s sure Yuri would _never_ let him hear the end of that. 

He started his set with some of Yuri’s favorites, some rock, a little electronica, a couple of more pop flavored punk songs. A few minutes in he looked up long enough to see that Yuri had made his way from the bar and into the crowd on the dance floor. The flashing lights kept him from getting a really good look at Yuri’s face but he hoped that was a good sign. 

Thirty minutes was nearly gone before he knew it and it was time to fade into the last track - the one he had agonized over for the better part of a month. 

The distinctive bass line blared out over his custom beats and the fills he had written, rewritten, and tweaked obsessively until it was perfect. When it reached the chorus, a few people in the crowd cheered. People were definitely dancing, so it probably didn’t suck. 

A moment after the last chord faded into quiet his friend addressed the crowd, asking them to ‘give it up’. Still squinting a little into the lights, Otabek silently waved his thanks and made his way down to the dance floor. 

Yuri was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps with an unreadable look on his face. “You heard ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and thought that I would like a techno remix?”

“Yeah. I did.” Otabek couldn’t quite keep the worry out of his voice, “Do you?” 

“It was the most fucking awesome thing I’ve ever heard,” Yuri answered in a rush. “I want to skate an exhibition program to it. Can I?” 

“It’s _yours_ , Yuri,” he answered with a smile, awash with sudden relief. 

Yuri responded by flinging himself forward to hug Otabek tightly. His last growth spurt put him at least a centimeter taller than Otabek. He probably had another couple still to go. Otabek reminded himself to breathe let his arms come up to circle Yuri’s waist. 

“Do you remember the last time we were this close,” Yuri murmured in his ear, breath stirring his short hair and sending a shiver down his spine. 

He couldn’t forget it if he tried. 

 

Yuri had talked him into taking a trip to Japan the summer before Victor and Yuuri had started their relocation to St. Petersburg. They’d stayed in Yuuri’s sleepy hometown at his family’s inn. It had been one of the best trips of Otabek’s life. He had been to Japan several times for competitions of course but only to major cities and he’d never taken the time to get to know the country. To ‘soak in the culture’ Yuuri had joked one night in the hot spring, earning a glare from Yuri and a delighted chuckle from Victor. 

Yuuri’s mother’s cooking was even better than Yuri had promised, Otabek had to admit he could see now why the others made such a big deal about katsudon. Of course, if he remembered correctly, Yuri had been leaning close, practically in his lap the first time he tried it, eager to make sure he liked it. That would have been enough to make him pretty fond of nearly anything. 

It had been good to get to know Victor and Yuuri a little more. They were even nicer at home, relaxed and happy. The night in question there had been an abundance of beer and Victor had definitely been not at all subtly sliding glasses over towards Yuri while Yuuri did his best not to notice. 

The adults had gotten kind of rowdy after dinner and Yuri dragged him out to sit on the wide porch overlooking the garden. 

“I shouldn’t have let Victor get me drunk,” Yuri grumbled with a complete lack of conviction. 

Otabek hummed a vague noise of agreement. 

“He’s an annoyingly cheerful drunk. Well, he used to be way more annoying. Now he mostly just bothers Katsudon when he’s drunk,” Yuri elaborated with a smirk. 

Yuri grew quiet for a moment, his face contemplative before he turned to Otabek with an expression bordering on nervous. 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, ok?” 

“Alright,” Otabek agreed.

Yuri turned his gaze back out on the moonlit trees. 

“There was some club opening or gala or some crap like that and Victor of course had to make an appearance. The fucker must have stayed up all night because when Yakov sent me to get him for practice at five he was in half a suit and probably more than half drunk. You know he can show up at the rink still stumbling into the locker room but the second he gets out on the ice he’s stone cold focus? It’s insane. Totally unfair. Anyway, he was still in his ridiculous ‘I’m the sparkliest and everyone loves me’ mode and he seemed to think it was totally ok to kiss me hello.”

Otabek couldn’t really say he was surprised. He had interacted with Victor at a number of events the previous year. He definitely seemed like the kind of person who was free with his affections. Especially if alcohol was involved. Otabek could probably consider himself lucky that he had never had to deal with a handsy Victor Nikiforov personally. But he was universally admired and more than a little lusted after by most skaters on the circuit. Otabek could count at least three people he had heard discussing what it would be like to kiss Victor. Knowing Yuri, despite all of his protests about Victor he would probably have guessed that Yuri wouldn’t mind overly much. 

“It… wasn’t good?”

Yuri scoffed, “Ugh. Victor is Victor. I know everyone thinks he’s hot shit. And yeah, I guess he’s fucking attractive or whatever.” 

He fell quiet for a moment before continuing, “It wasn’t terrible or anything but for him it was just a whim and it would have been nice for my first kiss to mean something, you know?” Yuri was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Otabek hoped his expression read as caring and supportive. 

“That’s understandable.” 

That probably wasn’t what he should say. There must be a better response when someone shares something so personal. But they were sitting shoulder to shoulder looking out on the moonlit garden and Yuri had turned to look at him intently and his cheeks were beautifully flushed and they were talking about _kissing_ and Otabek’s brain couldn’t quite keep up properly. 

His hand moved of its own volition, coming up to tuck a lock of Yuri’s silky hair behind his ear. Yuri caught his hand before he could draw back and leaned in, eyes fluttering closed just before he pressed his mouth to Otabek’s. 

He let himself melt into the kiss, felt Yuri soften against him, one of them made a small sound in their throat. All of a sudden it was over, Yuri had jerked away - clearly startled. 

“Ok. That was - um.” He scrambled to his feet, sliding a little on the polished wood in his haste. “I’m going to bed, see you tomorrow.” 

Yuri was gone before Otabek could get any words out and he was left with the ghost of Yuri’s kiss on his lips. He hoped Yuri knew that he was totally ok with kissing him in the moonlight. He had stayed out there in the garden a while longer, smiling in the darkness. 

Otabek had no idea what to expect the next day but Yuri was his normal brusque self and he didn’t mention the previous night at all. In fact, he never brought it up again so of course Otabek couldn’t. He figured Yuri was embarrassed or didn’t like it, or both and he certainly didn’t want to deal with that kind of awkwardness between them. Maybe it was a little cowardly given his feelings but he never wanted to make Yuri uncomfortable. 

 

Yuri certainly seemed to be making himself very comfortable at the moment, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s neck and pressing their bodies close from shoulders to knees. 

He was trying desperately not to read his own attraction into the gesture but Yuri was leaning back just enough to pull him into the crowd with sparkling eyes. 

“Dance with me, Beka.” 

How could anyone refuse?

Otabek couldn’t really say how much time passed on the dance floor. He was hyper aware of all the places he and Yuri were touching, the hot points of his hands on Yuri’s hips, the brush of Yuri’s hair against his neck, Yuri’s hand snaking up into his hair as they swiveled their hips to the pounding beat. He could see shades of Yuri’s dance training in the elegant angles of his legs, the fluidity of his movements and he took Otabek right along with him, leading him so smoothly that it felt like they had been made to move together. 

Finally there was a break in the music as the next DJ got their show started. Otabek had to stop himself from reaching out when Yuri stepped away. 

“I could use some air, meet me outside?” 

“Sure, I’ll just grab my bag.” He tamped down his rising disappointment. The night had been far more successful than he had hoped. Yuri liked his song, they had a great time dancing. He had no right to expect anything else. By the time he retrieved his things and stepped into the evening chill he had gotten himself under control, business as usual. 

Yuri was leaning against the wall, looking like a fashion photo spread - head tipped back to show the graceful lines of his neck, hair falling perfectly around his shoulders. His lips were curved into a playful smile as Otabek stopped a safe number of centimeters away, hands curled into his pockets. 

“You’ve given me two of the best birthday presents already but eighteen is kind of a big one. I think I need one more thing from you, Beka.” 

He couldn’t stop the hopeful thump of his heart if he tried. He tried to keep his voice light and steady, “Oh?”

“Yeah, I kissed you before. This time I think you should kiss me.” 

He guessed they were going to bring it up again. As desperately as he wanted to just step forward and pull Yuri against him he needed to make sure it wasn’t just the drinks and the club pushing Yuri. Otabek didn’t think he could take it if Yuri was upset about it later or if this was just a passing fancy. He focused on Yuri’s eyes, watching as a few seconds passed in agonizing silence. 

Yuri’s bravado quickly turned to confusion but Otabek could still see the hope in his gaze. He nodded, “Yes. Ok.” 

They both moved at the same time, Otabek stepping forward as Yuri pushed away from the wall to meet him in the middle. They stopped a breath apart, just a hair's width from touching. Otabek was sure Yuri knew just as well as he did that this would change things between them. Finally he raised a hand to cup Yuri’s cheek and watched his eyes flutter shut. 

Suddenly Otabek couldn’t stand another moment of not kissing Yuri. He closed the tiny distance between them and pressed their lips together. He took his time, enjoying the soft slide of Yuri’s mouth against his. After a few seconds Yuri tilted his head and deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to Otabek. He followed eagerly, sliding their tongues together. Yuri’s hands were clutching his shoulders, he wound his other arm around Yuri’s waist. If he had allowed himself to linger on thoughts of what it would be like to kiss Yuri properly, it would have been everything he dreamed. 

One kiss bled into another and they probably shouldn’t be making out on the street outside a club but they were young and it was darkish. Finally they paused to catch their breath and when Yuri grinned at him, he couldn’t help but grin back. Otabek leaned back in to nuzzle his nose against Yuri’s and make him laugh. 

“Happy birthday to me,” Yuri purred, stepping away but threading their fingers together. He raised his other hand to hail a cab and smiled, “I finally got exactly what I wanted.”


End file.
